Feelings Pack a Punch
by DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns
Summary: Bucky never felt a thing, until when he did, it packed a punch. Soulmate!AU


Note: Soulmate!AU - You're without a sense until you meet your soulmate

* * *

To most of the world with the knowledge, Bucky was known as the Winter Soldier. He was known to be one of the most ruthless, cutthroat operatives that HYDRA had to offer. He was known to be invincible. No matter what anyone did to him, Bucky couldn't feel it. Cuts, no. Blasts, nothing. Punches and kicks, a dream.

The conclusion he'd come to was that something happened when he received his new metallic arm. It was the only thing that made sense in his world.

There were talks, whispers about people not having senses because they weren't whole. They didn't have someone to complete them in ways that only another soul could provide.

Honestly, Bucky thought that was a load of crap.

And he continued to think that. That is until he encountered members of the Avengers.

* * *

The sounds of cracking and breaking from the impact of blasts and hard bodies, screams from scared and nervous civilians, and grunts and shouts from fighting filled Bucky's ears.

He was tearing through cars and objects coming his way, and not feeling any of it was an advantage.

While on the job, he wasn't a man of words, but he couldn't help but feel boastful going against the 'mighty' Avengers.

He never saw it coming.

A jet of blue light from a blast hit him square in the chest, and the contact pushed him back; he'd _felt_ it. Bucky gasped, eyes wide in surprise. He touched at the injury, hissing from the pain. It couldn't be…

"Hey, buddy," came a voice laced with arrogance.

Bucky staggered to turn in the voice's direction, eyes meeting the cold mask belonging to Iron Man; but that was all that he saw as a fist swung and connected with his jaw.

The Winter Soldier flew back from the power of the punch, and he felt every ounce of pain it gave. When he landed on the side of a building, his world went black.

* * *

Bucky's opened his eyes slowly, touching the side of his cheek where his jaw was swollen. He didn't recall anything that'd happen from the last time he'd woken up when flashes of his past came to mind.

Looking around, he found himself in a concealed room, only a twin bed and door evident inside.

"Where the hell am I?" he asked aloud, rubbing his jaw. If this is what it felt like to sense a touch, they can have it back. That's when it dawned on him. He could feel.

And he had no recollection of how.

"You're in a room, obviously," came a voice, and Bucky looked quickly to the source.

The man sauntered in, glasses perched on his nose with an eyebrow raised in a challenging manner. He walked with attitude, a commanding air surrounding his form.

Bucky folded his arms and stood, eyes narrowing at the man. "Obviously," he replied. "Where is this room and why am I here?"

"The location of this room is of no importance, and you're here because you're a killer," he answered. "More importantly, you hurt me."

Bucky had been following him up til that last statement. "Should I care that I hurt you?" He shook his head. "I don't know when and how I hurt you anyway."

"Let me shed some light for you," the man said, clasping his hands behind his back slowly as if he were easing the pain. "You were under the control of a terrorist organization that kept you frozen for years on end, and you attacked my team. You attacked me." There was a pause, and he looked Bucky in the eyes. "You punched me, and I felt it. Even through my suit, which has never happened before."

Bucky blinked, trying to process everything he was saying. "Look…"

"Stark, Tony Stark," the man answered.

Bucky cleared his throat. "Tony…look. You've got the wrong guy." He refused to believe that the man in front of him was supposed to be the one to complete him.

"No, I've got the right guy," Tony replied. "And that just makes things more complicated, and a lot suckier."

A frown formed on Bucky's face. He didn't know how to respond to that without punching the guy, yet that could possibly confirm what neither of them clearly were ready to accept.

If only he could read minds. Tony had reached forward and touched Bucky's swollen cheek. Where there was usually nothing, Bucky felt the roughness of Tony's fingers on his cheek and the pain from the injury.

"It's against everything in me to accept the likes of you," Tony said. "But without you, I'm not whole. As charming and wonderful things have been in my life thus far, I can't live without this sense. Without you."

His words caused Bucky's heart to beat sporadically.

"I'm going to do everything in my power to make things right, and I'm normally not so forgiving," Tony continued. "And if you tell anyone this, I will blast you. I _know_ it will hurt."

Tony turned to walk away, tapping at his watch. Bucky cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Erm…thank you?" he said.

Pushing the shades up the bridge of his nose, Tony shook his head. "Don't thank me yet. Getting the others to believe that I'm not bullshitting them on my soulmate being a killer such as yourself is going to give me early grey hairs."

He left the room, leaving Bucky to his thoughts. Bucky decided to push his thoughts aside and rubbed his cheek. He didn't want to think now that he could literally feel.

* * *

Word Count: 933


End file.
